When You're Gone
by sunnystefie
Summary: No one knew how she felt about it all. She had never told anyone how much he meant to her, and now he was gone. She knew she had to talk to him, just once more, maybe even bring him back...but how? Summer after 5th year
1. Chapter 1

Hey there all and welcome to my very first chapter of my very first story! I would love it ifyou could review...just so I can get some opinions of what you guys think of it. I have the rest of it mostly written up, I just have to type it up, so I'd like to know if you think it's worth my time or not. OK, now that that's out of the way ONWARD! So...the story, it's kinda Romance but that's just a part of it, there's a lot of other stuff too. an umm, yeah.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is an amazing woman who made up things that I could never think up all by myself. I am forced to use her characters and things to write my own semi-creative stories. The plot is mine...unless of course someone already wrote something like this when I wasn't looking and that person and I think very much along the same lines. OK OK story, here goes!

* * *

After wondering for so long what had happened to him, where he had gone, she was finally going to figure it all out.

When Hermione found out about his death after she woke up in the hospital wing she had acted strong and given Harry her condolences. No one knew how much the news was eating her up inside. The guilt and the pain and the mystery filled her mind and her heart until finally, one day about a week into her summer vacation, it all clicked into place. She knew what she had to do. Hermione told her parents she wanted to get a head start on shopping for school things she knew she would need like quills and ink and potion ingredients.

* * *

The day she arrived in London was a Saturday and when she reached Diagon Alley, the magic in the air made everything come flooding back to her. The way he treated them all like his own children, the look on his face when he reminisced about his own adolescence-the best years of his life. Her favourite memory of him was his laugh, oh his laugh, the one like a bark that was always accompanied with a huge boyish smile and puppy dog eyes. When she saw him laugh the old man, hardened by 12 years in prison, went away and was replaced by an awkward but handsome boy of 16 again. Hermione loved to watch him laugh. Those memories only made her more determined and she knew she had to go through with her plan.

She stepped off the busy street and into _Flourish and Blott's_. The store was practically deserted save for a very old, round witch in the _Magical Recipes_ aisle. Near the front check-out there was a stand with copies of the _Daily Prophet. _She picked one up and replaced it with a sigh. The headline read: _"Search Continues for Escaped Death Eaters!" _Same as every other day this summer. She then headed for the _Magical Politics and Scandals _section of the old book store. She knew exactly what she was looking for, but she didn't know if it would even be there. Not for the first time in her life, Hermione hoped beyond hoe that her beloved books would not let her down.

There were books about every ministry of magic office. The book must have been 10 feet tall and 25 wide. She quickly scanned the shelves. Nothing popped out at her until her sight grazed the third shelf down, sixth book from the right: _"The Mysteries of the Department of Mysteries by Renaldo Hornbuckle, 1768."_ She slid the ladder over as quickly as she could and retrieved the massive, dusty book. Without even checking it's contents she ran to the front of the store and threw 5 Galleons down on the table, told the astonished book-keeper to hold the change and ran out, the door slamming behind her.

She couldn't wait to read it, but she had to find a spot she wouldn't be interrupted in first. After what seemed like an eternity Hermione walked into a deserted alleyway where she carefully perched herself on a crate of empty Butterbeer bottles. She flipped straight to the index and slid her finger down the many subjects in the book until she came to the V's. Veil…veil…_Veil of Whispers_! That had to be it. She flipped fast as lightening to page 982. She looked left and right to assure herself that no one was watching. Hermione knew she shouldn't have been so paranoid, but she felt as if what she was doing was horrible, just reading this book. There was only one paragraph about the_ Veil of Whispers _but she was so excited to have found anything at all she could have yelled out loud.

_The Veil of Whispers was discovered in 1163 in Scotland. It stayed there until 1295 when it was believed to be too dangerous to remain accessible to the public and was transported to the Department of Mysteries. When a witch or wizard goes near the veil, the voices of those who went through it can be heard calling to them and he or she is possessed with an incredible urge to cross through. Millions have been lost to the Veil. It is believed that those who cross through remain living but cannot ever return to the real world. In 1414 and Unspeakable became the only person to ever exit the universe on the other side of the Veil after 24 years inside. He never spoke of his experiences except for once when he was quoted as saying, "You can only return to the real world if your-"_

The corner of the page was ripped. For once she actually cursed the ancient and delicate pages. It didn't matter though; she had all the information she needed. If there was a way out, she would find it.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi again everybody! So sorry this updating stuff took so long, I honestly haven't set down on the computer in weeks. What with work and personal matters. But here it is, so fresh it's still warm. It's a lot longer than the last chapter I hope you like it. Thanks muchos to the people who reviewed! kiss

-Stefania

She knew she couldn't tell anyone what her plans were. Her parents would never allow it and would keep her under lock-and-key in her bedroom for fear of her running off even though they forbid her. Ron would never understand and would probably spill her secret and she would, once again, be stopped in her tracks. Harry, as much as she loved him, would want to come with her and would try to be the hero again-it was just in his nature. No, she needed to do this alone. For herself and for Sirius.

Her mind was made up: she would leave next Tuesday night. She would have a nice dinner with her family, wash the dishes afterward, and send both Harry and Ron owls saying how much she loved them, and missed them, and looked forward to seeing them in September. She wouldn't need to pack her bags, she didn't even know where she was going.

The week seemed to drag out longer than any other. She knew she should have been spending time with her family and friends-she might never see them again, but all she could really do was lie in her room, her stomach sick with anticipation. She could tell her mother was getting worried. Everyday she would creep up the stairs and tentatively knock on Hermione's room door. "Hermione, darling, are you alright in there?"

"Yes, Mum, I'm fine."

"And you're sure you don't need anything"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"And if you-"

"Need anything I'll come downstairs. Got it, Mum."

She hated acting the way she was, but she couldn't help but feel it would hurt less if she distanced herself from the ones she loved. All she could think about was Sirius, the veil, and what she had promised herself she would do. She read the paragraph in the book over and over again, there had to be something more. There _was_ something more, but it was gone, the page had probably been ripped 1000 years before she, Hermione Granger, the one who really needed that book, had even been born. The corner of the page could have meant the difference between life and death for Hermione, but she was willing to risk it. She would risk anything for him.

By the time Tuesday rolled around, Hermione had hardly seen the outside of her bedroom for days. She had decided that morning that she would shower and go downstairs for breakfast. Her parents were both delighted to see her out of bed. "Looks like you're feeling better!" remarked her mother. "Hardly," Hermione thought, but she just smiled and nodded brightly at them. She was surprised at how easy it was to feign happiness around her parents. The day passed faster than any other that week, she spent most of it with her mother in the back garden. Before she knew it the sun was setting as she sent what might be her last letters ever to Harry and Ron. She said goodnight to her parents a little later on and told them she loved them. Then she went up into her room, changed into her robes and waited for the rest of her household to fall asleep.

As the clock struck 1:00 she feared her parents would never drift off. Finally at 5 minutes to 2, the house fells silent. She got out of bed with her robes on under her pyjamas and her wand tucked safely in her pocket. She crept down the stairs and ran the water in the kitchen so if she had awoken one of her parents they would just think she needed something to drink and wouldn't wonder what she was doing out of bed. She left silently out of the side door in the kitchen and hastily took of her pyjamas. She hid them in a bush in the neighbour's yard and out of the bush she took an old, beat-up broomstick. The StarShooter she had bought in Hogsmeade that year. She definitely wasn't good on a broom but it was the only was she could get to London in the middle of the night.

She flew over Britain, the cold wind whipping her hair and robes out behind her. Who knew how many witches and wizards could be sleeping in the houses flying by below her? She also couldn't help but wonder what she was getting herself into. Where was he really? Would she even be able to find him?

London was just up ahead-she could tell from the huge cluster of lights.

_Well I just can't seem to pity_

'_Cause my hart's to numb to feel_

_And the smile does all the talking_

_Though the Pain is all that's real._

She was right over top of it now, she could see the square where Harry had taken her with the Thestrals. It was time to land.

_With the way the you keep screaming_

_I can hardly hear to think_

_And I feel the bridges burning_

_Underneath my feet_

She walked over to the old telephone booth and opened the door. She stepped in. It was small, but seemed incredibly larger than the last time she had been inside. She was alone now, after all, and not accompanied by 5 others.

_Where do you go, oh_

_When you're gone_

_Where do you go, oh_

_When you're gone_

_Oh, how the road feels so long_

_But where do you go, oh_

_When you're gone_

She punched "62442" into the key pad on the phone and a lady's voice came from nowhere, "State your business"

"Hermione Granger, I came to find something I lost"

_I just want to stay dreaming_

_No I just don't want to wake_

_What can't we keep on sailing_

_Across this emerald lake_

The telephone spit a badge out of the change spot. It read: Hermione Granger-Looking for closure. Suddenly the pavement was coming closer and a arm yellow light was shining in from the Atrium of the Ministry of

Magic.

_My forehead is still bleeding_

_From the thorns I used to wear_

_And I'm left alone and beaten _

_For this cross I choose to bear_

She ran out past the sleeping guard. The beautiful fountain that was there had been removed, she noticed. She took the stairs two at a time.

_Where do you go, oh_

_When you're gone_

_Where do you go, oh_

_When you're gone_

_Oh, how the road feels so long_

_But where do you go, oh_

_When you're gone_

10 flights later she reached the bottom. She was at the end of a long stone hallways and she walked towards the single door at the end slowly, but with her heard held high.

_Well I finally found what I'm looking for_

_Though the road is still long, and the light is still far_

_But I finally found what I'm looking for_

_Well I finally found what I'm looking for_

_Though the road is still long, and the light is still far_

_But I finally found what I'm looking for_

She reached out and turned the knob on the ancient door. She was standing in the all too familiar spinning, circular room. By process of elimination she found the room with the ancient stone dias and The Veil.

_Well the voices fall like timber_

_And the fear it pour like rain_

_And my heart is crushed to cinders_

_Underneath this kind of pain_

_Well there is no resolution_

_When the revolution's dead_

_So I'm left with no solution_

_For the voices in my head._

It was right in front of her. So eerie. The voices were calling to her from the other side. Before she could talk herself out of it, she shut her eyes tightly and stepped forward and through the old, ratty fabric.

_Where do you go, oh_

_When you're gone_

_Where do you go, oh_

_When you're gone_

_Oh, how the road feels so long_

_But where do you go, oh_


End file.
